


Death doesn't let you say goodbye

by Elisexyz



Category: Suits (TV)
Genre: (lots of it), Angst, Bromance, Character Death, Death-Fic, Gen, Grief/Mourning, I guess you can see it as Slash if you want, minor Rachel/Mike
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-29
Updated: 2016-12-29
Packaged: 2018-09-07 04:33:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 20,047
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8783317
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elisexyz/pseuds/Elisexyz
Summary: When Mike makes Junior Partner, Harvey isn’t there to see it.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Mmh. Hey. Yes, this is what you think it is: a 20k depressing one-shot about Harvey dying and Mike being a mess afterwards. I should probably pretend to have some shame and attempt to justify myself for all this suffering, but if I _did_ have shame I wouldn't be sharing this stuff to begin with. So. I'll just. Leave this here.  
>    
>  **Warning** : season 5 never happened, this is a what-if starting after Donna left Harvey and ignoring everything that happened afterwards. Everything goes smoothly with Mike's lack of degree, because focusing on the fraud-problem wasn't the point of the fic and the show already covered that beautifully. I hope no one is too bothered by this.  
>    
>  **PS** : If you are Russian, you can find this fic translated [here](https://ficbook.net/readfic/6395782), courtesy of Blauwe Hommel :) 

“I know.” Mike blurted, exasperated. “I am not gonna be late, I swear.”

“ _Oh, well, forgive me if I learn from experience and I’m observant enough to notice that you have the tendency to sleep in when you absolutely shouldn’t_.” Harvey replied. Mike could picture his ‘I-am-holier-than-thou’ expression far too easily by now.

“I’ll be there.” Mike stated once again, taking the phone away from his ear for a couple of seconds because his skin was starting to boil. They had been on the phone for something like three hours, talking business and teasing each other from time to time. “And next time we should do this at your condo.”

“ _You just want to get your dirty little hands on my Scotch_.” Harvey commented.

“Guilty.” Mike chuckled, and it wasn’t even a lie: that Scotch was amazing, even if it wasn’t his favourite drink.

“ _And this call wasn’t supposed to last that long, you are the one who comes up with crazy ideas with the worst timing possible_.”

“Crazy enough for you to want to use it tomorrow.” Mike pointed out, without bothering to mask the pride he felt whenever Harvey welcomed one of his suggestions and decided to follow up on his ideas. They had gone really far since when Harvey had hired him, but Mike’s admiration towards his boss had never faded.

“ _With my adjustments, yeah_.” Harvey replied. Mike knew better than to take offence on that comment. “ _Good job, Mike_.”

Mike smiled. Harvey had jokingly said that if they had managed to win that thing they would have gone out together to grab something to eat. Translated from Harvey to English, that was a promise that he’d offer him a fancy dinner to celebrate together. “Good night, Harvey.”

“ _’Night_.”

Once he had hung up, Mike sighed, looking at the documents spread all over his table with tired eyes. He rubbed them, deciding that he would gather all that stuff tomorrow, now he just wanted to go to sleep.

He didn’t expect Rachel to be still awake, but when he slithered into the bed she muttered: “So, are you done with your boyfriend finally?”

“Hey, I thought you were sleeping.” Mike smiled, kissing her on her forehead.

“I thought you were coming to bed two hours ago.” Rachel replied.

“I know, sorry, we were talking about tomorrow. It’s a big deal.” Mike explained, getting comfortable on his side of the bed as she crawled towards him, resting her head against his shoulder.

“Yeah, I know. And that’s why you should get some sleep.”

 

When the phone rang, Mike felt like he hadn’t slept at all.

A quick look at the clock let him know that it was half past four in the morning and his next thought was a ‘who the fuck is calling in the middle of the night?’. The number on the screen was unknown and Rachel was shifting uncomfortably beside him, mumbling something that Mike didn’t catch.

“Hello?” He answered, without bothering to mask his annoyance at being woken up at that odd hour.

“ _Mr. Ross?”_ A female voice asked. Her tone was unemotional and Mike was pretty sure he didn’t know her.

“Yeah, this is him.” He answered, sitting up slowly. What was going on?

“ _I’m calling from the Mercy Hospital_.” _Oh shit_. “ _I’m calling for Harvey Specter, you are listed as an emergency contact_.” _Oh shit, shit, shit. Please, let him be okay_. Mike opened his mouth to ask about him, but the words wouldn’t come out. “ _There has been an accident, could you by any chance come over?_ ”

Mike opened his mouth again, struggling to breathe and to bring his mouth to pronounce the words: _Yes, of fucking course I’ll be there, if I don’t crash on the way_. In his brain there was only space for an infinite prayer to a God he had never truly believed in, in the foolish hope that someone was there listening and Harvey would be fine.

“ _Mr. Ross? Are you still there?”_

“Ye-Yeah.” Mike finally managed to say. “I’m coming. Is he alright?”

“ _He is alive, sir_.”

Maybe it was just a silly little accident. Maybe Harvey wanted to take a walk during the night and he tripped over and fell down the stairs – except there was an elevator in his building.

Maybe it was just a domestic accident, maybe something fell on his head and everyone knew that head injuries always looked worse than they actually were, so maybe there was much blood and Harvey called an ambulance and they wouldn’t let him go home on his own because doctors had a responsibility and it wasn’t wise to let someone go after a head trauma, he could have fallen into a coma or something.

“Mike? What’s going on?” Mike hadn’t even realized that he had hung up and that Rachel was staring at him with wide open, scared eyes. “Who was it on the phone?”

It took a couple of seconds for Mike to remember that there was a world outside of his head and his conjectures, that there was a real world in which his fiancée was probably wondering if someone had died and Harvey could be actually dying while he was there staring at the nothingness trying to convince himself not to panic.

“The hospital.” Mike managed to answer. His voice was trembling a little as he stood up and grabbed the nearest jeans, thinking that he couldn’t just go around in underwear. “It’s Harvey.” He added, hearing himself say it like it was a stranger talking.

He didn’t bother changing his ugly t-shirt, grabbing his shoes instead.

“Oh my God.” Rachel whispered. Mike wasn’t looking at her: he had no time for her worry right now, he had to get out of there and go see Harvey, make sure that he was okay and that it really was just a stupid domestic accident.

Rachel offered to go with him. Mike remembered refusing, mumbling something along the lines of ‘you need some sleep’ and ‘I’ll get a cab’ and ‘I’ll be fine’. Truth was she looked so worried and Mike felt like he was supposed to stay strong for her, but right now all he could bring himself to do was running out of the door, barely dressed and with only his cell phone, some money and keys with him. The mere thought of having to _talk_ with Rachel, of hearing her saying stuff that was supposed to be reassuring but didn’t actually help and having to pretend to appreciate it to not make her feel bad, all that was just overwhelming and made him even sicker than he already felt.

During the drive towards the hospital, he couldn’t think of anything other than Harvey and what could have possibly happened to him. Trevor used to watch a medical drama all the time, and Mike ended up keeping him company: he hated how many ideas that gave him about why someone could end up in the hospital in the middle of the night. None of those ideas were pretty and Mike promised the cab driver that he’d pay double if he could make it there in ten minutes.

 

There was light coming out of the hospital: it gave it that mysterious and somehow interesting look that all places illuminated during the night inherited.

Mike stepped in, his knees dumb and his eyes squeezing at all the white in the building, and he headed towards the information desk. He asked about Harvey Specter, waited thirty-four excruciating seconds for the nurse with tired eyes to check the database, then he was given a room and floor number and he left without saying goodbye.

It was night, but there was still so much activity in that place. Funny how a building where people died every hour looked so _alive_.

Harvey. He needed to find Harvey, he needed to see him and make sure that he was okay. Had Harvey been in his place – _that_ would have been much better –, he probably would have given Mike a lecture about waking him up in the middle of the night as soon as he would have been capable of understanding and suffering through it. Mike considered doing the same, he imagined yelling at Harvey that he wasn’t allowed to scare him that much _ever_ again, but in the end he vowed that if he had found out that he was alive and well he would have just hugged him and told him that he loved him. Harvey wouldn’t have been too happy of them having a moment, but fuck it, Mike knew that the man would have felt good hearing him say that.

Mike found Jessica standing in the middle of the hallway, dressed as good as if it was just another day at the office. Did she sleep into those dresses or what?

She noticed Mike’s arrival far before he had reached her, and _shit_ , the look on her face wasn’t good, it wasn’t good at all. Mike felt his throat closing and his heart beating faster. He stood in front of her, opening his mouth to ask if she knew anything but not being able to actually form the words. Maybe because he wasn’t really sure he wanted to know the answer.

“You should sit down.” Jessica said, nodding. Her voice was calm and detached and Mike wanted to shake her, scream at her face, to get answers and a goddamn reaction that wasn’t that _absolutely not good_ look.

“Is he-?” Mike whispered, without being really sure how he was supposed to end that question. Alright? Alive? _What?_

“Sit down.” Jessica insisted. Her hand was on his arm, trying to guide him towards the chair. Mike shook it off.

“I don’t want to sit down!” He barked, his voice coming back to him all at once. He wasn’t supposed to scream in a hospital, but if that was what it took to get answers, so be it.

“Alright.” Jessica gave up. She paused, probably looking for the right words, as Mike just wished for her to hurry up already. In the end, she simply dropped the bomb: “He is dead.”

Mike blinked. “What?” He asked. He could feel his mouth twisting into a smile, as a small chuckle came out to highlight his disbelief. “No, no, he’s- We were talking like- _Three hours_ ago. He-”

“I’m sorry.” Jessica said. Mike barely heard her, too busy trying to register what he had just been told, because it wasn’t possible, it didn’t make _any_ sense. Harvey was alive and well at one in the morning, how could he-? _How_ did that happen? They were _talking_ , he had told him that he had done and good job and Mike could almost feel his smile as he said that, it wasn’t possible- He-

“We- We were supposed to celebrate together after the deal” Mike whispered. His voice broke towards the end of the sentence and his lips were trembling and he felt like there was something growing into his chest, something that wasn’t supposed to be there and that he needed to let out.

Jessica gently guided him towards the nearest chair. Mike fell on it like his legs didn’t work anymore, and maybe they didn’t. A second later, he was swallowing helpless sobs and Jessica was sitting beside him and _hugging_ him, whispering to let it out and stroking his hair like that was something in the realm of possibility. It was how impossible that situation was, how wrong it felt trying not to cry as his face was buried in _Jessica_ ’s shoulder, that made him realize that maybe it was really like that, that maybe Harvey was really- Because for what other reason would Jessica have let him cry on her? Why else would she have _hugged_ him?

It was when that reasoning started to make sense and all the pieces fell into place that reality sank in and Mike let the tears fall.

 

They had been allowed to see him.

Jessica had called Donna, who was no longer an emergency contact because she was working for Louis and she and Harvey weren’t exactly okay in that moment, and now she was standing beside Mike, crying silently. She looked exactly like when she was fake-crying. Mike guessed she was really a good actress then.

Harvey had been stabbed, Mike had learnt. His neighbours were fighting and the screams had probably woken him up and Harvey had gone to knock on the door and find out what the fuck was going on. It was normal, no one liked loud neighbours. Except it wasn’t an innocent fight and the husband had a knife and the wife, who had managed to open the door, had instinctively sought protection and Harvey hadn’t backed down and he’d ended up being stabbed two times. People had started to come out and the husband had fled the scene, while people screamed and there was blood everywhere and someone dialled 911.

Mike had had to listen to all this from the wife’s mouth. She had some stiches on her head and arm, and she was crying as she gave her statement to the two police officers who had informed them that the suspect had managed to get away. Mike had wanted nothing more than to shut her up.

Now he was heading towards the room where Harvey’s body was waiting to be moved to the morgue, and everything still felt so surreal, like he was dreaming and he would have soon woken up from that nightmare. He imagined to open his eyes and be in his bed, his alarm clock going off to let him know that it was time to go to work. He would dress up and take his bike and he’d be on time for a change. Harvey would be waiting for him and Mike would prompt him to comment on him not being late. And Harvey would reply with a snarky comment about it being his duty and everything would be okay.

Mike let Jessica and Donna go first, keeping his distance from the proof that whatever he was imagining was just _gone_ now.

Donna was sobbing, Jessica still managed to stay strong, Mike was just numb.

Donna turned towards him, too soon for his liking, inviting him to say goodbye. Mike realized he couldn’t do it. He shook his head, mumbling an apology as he sped out of the room. He wanted to run away, to leave all that behind, but he knew that there was no running away from it, that it would still hunt him everywhere. It wasn’t like he had never experienced it before.

Was that even supposed to make him more trained or something? To make it hurt less? Because his chest surely ached just like when he had lost his parents.

Mike wanted to run, but he made it only through half the hallway. Then he stopped, unsure on his own legs, and he simply let himself fall on a chair, his face buried in his hands as if to hide his pain.

He didn’t know how much time had passed when Donna laid a kiss on his forehead and said that she was heading home and that he could call if he needed anything. Mike couldn’t take her seriously with all those tears that made her look just as messed up as him.

Jessica offered a ride. Mike wanted to refuse because he didn’t know where to go – he didn’t want to go home and explain it to Rachel, he just wanted to ignore it, to pretend like it wasn’t real, to let himself hope that everything was going to be alright -, but the hospital started to feel obnoxious and suffocating and he wanted to get out of there.

He nodded. Jessica asked if he wanted to see Harvey before going. Mike quickly shook his head, silently pleading her to not insist. She didn’t.

 

Jessica was heading towards his house. Mike stopped her, asking to be taken to the office.

She frowned. “I think you should go get some sleep. You do know that you have the day off, right?”

Mike shook his head. “I don’t want to be at home. I- I don’t want to tell-” He swallowed. “Please, just bring me to the office.”

Jessica seemed to think about it, her eyes completely focused on the road as she stopped in front of a red light. “Fine.” She finally agreed. “As long as you just crash there and _don’t_ work.”

Mike quickly nodded. He wasn’t even sure he had the ability to work right now, he probably wouldn’t even have been able to write down his own name.

Jessica was staring at him as if to read his soul. Mike shied away from her gaze, watching the light turning green and repeating to himself that everything was going to be fine, that it was just a nightmare. Except there was a clock in front of him, on the dashboard, and he had read somewhere that there were no clocks in dreams.

 

Jessica dropped him off in front of the building. Mike was glad: he didn’t want company.

He stumbled towards the elevator, closing his eyes and pretending it was just another Monday. Except no one was around when stepped out and the silence was pressing on his ears, trying to make his brain explode probably.

“It’s just a nightmare.” He said, loud enough to try listening to his voice’s echo in the empty building. Maybe, if he had repeated it enough times he could have forgotten about the clock and the body and Jessica’s hug and everything that was crashing his hope that he could still wake up from that.

He accelerated, heading towards Harvey’s office without really thinking about it. He stepped in, looking at the empty chair as if his gaze could have made Harvey appear out of thin air. When nothing happened, he grunted with frustration, kicking the couch and hurting his foot in the process. He cursed, letting himself fall on the couch, lying down as if it was his bed. Harvey’s desk was right in front of him, and it was empty and as much as he tried to tell himself it was just too early and Harvey would come, the reality was becoming more and more undeniable as the seconds passed.

He turned, burying his face in a pillow as he wondered if Harvey had some Scotch hidden in there. He probably did, but he was pretty sure he would have needed a key and he was too tired to come up with a way to get it anyway.

He crossed his arms, gripping himself tight and trying to be as small as possible: it made him feel protected, it always had.

He fell asleep curled up on the couch in Harvey’s office, a part of him still stubbornly hoping that when he’d open his eyes everything would be okay.

 

When he felt a hand shaking him, as soon as he opened his eyes the first word on his lips was ‘Harvey’. He had caught glimpses of his office and his neck and back were terribly sore: he assumed he had fallen asleep working and that Harvey had woken him up to get back to work. He was going to tell him about this crazy dream he had about him dying and- And then there was Rachel, smiling sadly and petting his hair, whispering something that Mike didn’t hear as he realized that he was lying on the floor with a pillow next to his head.

“Mike?”

Mike blinked, sitting up. “Yeah, yeah, I- I’m fine.” He said.

Rachel smiled again.

Mike recognized that look: he had seen it before, in one of the worst moments of his life. He knew better than to ask, but maybe, just maybe, there was a chance that he could have been wrong and he needed to know. “Where’s Harvey?” He asked. His voice was so tiny and hoarse he wasn’t even sure that the question was understandable.

But apparently it was, because Rachel shook her head and just said: “I am so, so sorry.”

Mike felt his eyes burning as a wave of tears tried to get the better of him. He didn’t let them. “What time is it?” He mumbled, passing his hand on his face.

“Around eight am.”

Mike looked in front of him, noticing that the hallway was as empty as the night before. “Where’s everyone?”

“Jessica has called them all for a meeting. To tell them- What happened.” Rachel explained, biting her lip. She looked extremely afraid to bring it up: she probably thought Mike was going to break down any moment now. He really couldn’t blame her.

Mike now had this mental image of Jessica telling everyone that Harvey was- She probably looked detached, like that loss wasn’t hers – and maybe it wasn’t; Mike didn’t know much about her and Harvey’s relationship after all -, standing as she said some cliché stuff to people who barely _knew_ Harvey, though he was well known in the firm and probably all of them respected and/or envied him. Mike found himself wondering what everyone’s reaction would be.

That didn’t mean that he wanted to go check, though.

“You should eat something.” Rachel pointed out. Mike felt his stomach twisting at the mere thought.

“No, I’m okay.” He replied. “Thanks.”

Rachel didn’t look pleased or convinced, but Mike ignored her, standing up to find out that his legs hurt too. The last time he had been that sore, he had woken up in that same office, except he was still sitting on the couch, Harvey’s jacket covering him as a blanket and Harvey sitting at his desk, sipping his coffee as he finished the work they were going through the night before.

That had felt like home and Mike had smiled in spite of the pain. Right now, he just felt empty and lonely.

“I’m- I need to get some air.” He announced, heading out of the office.

People were staring to walk around again and Mike could feel them staring at him, with those pitying eyes that whispered: “ _He was his associate, look at how miserable he is, poor thing_.” Mike hated that feeling, he just wanted everyone to leave him alone already.

He walked in front of Louis’ office, catching a glimpse of him standing in front of his desk, looking lost. Mike quickly looked elsewhere when his gaze met Louis’, but it was too late and Louis was heading out of the office, calling his name. Mike couldn’t possibly pretend that he hadn’t heard him.

“Not now, Louis.” He said, stopping to turn towards him. It had come out as a plea more than anything else. _Please, leave me alone_.

Attorneys had to be good at reading people, it was part of their job, but apparently Louis had missed the memo, because he completely ignored Mike’s evident lack of need for social interaction, stepping towards him and throwing his arms around him.

“I am so, so sorry.” He said. He was sniffing and holding Mike so tight that if he hadn’t known better he would have thought that there was no ground under Louis’ feet and he was just hanging there, with only his grip on Mike to prevent him from falling.

Mike felt a hint of annoyance, because he didn’t care about his pity, he didn’t _want_ it. For his whole life he had been the orphan, the poor little thing who had lost his parents. He had hated that, because when he had Grammy, he wasn’t miserable, he wasn’t broken. Then he had lost her, and being pitied had started hurting even more because he really was an orphan without her. And now- Now Harvey was gone too and he was like half of his family, and he felt so alone and numb and foolish, still hoping that it could be a nightmare.

“I know how close you were.” Louis added, holding him a little tighter, if possible. Mike wanted to scream that _no_ , he had no idea. No one could have ever understood how much Harvey had done for him, how much he meant to him. They could only offer pity. Annoying, disgusting pity.

Mike swallowed, his eyes burning as he pulled away from the hug. “Thanks” He mumbled, instead of all the things he would have wanted to say. Louis nodded, and he was crying. The guy was so emotional; Harvey wouldn’t have approved.

Mike started walking again. He didn’t even know where he wanted to go: there were just so many people now going around the firm, and it felt like they were looking at him, seeing how fast he was falling apart.

He encountered Kyle’s gaze: there was no mockery, no smirk, nothing but a sympathetic expression that made Mike’s stomach burn with anger. Kyle had never given him an easy time, but _now_ all of a sudden he was trying to approach him. Mike cut him off, saying he didn’t want to talk and ignoring him as he tried to speak anyway.

He ended up pushing the door of Jessica’s office without even knowing when exactly he had decided to get there. She lifted her head from her desk, and it was such a relief to see that everything was so _normal_ , that there were no tears on her face and that she wasn’t looking at him in any weird way, she just seemed annoyed at the interruption – part of him though was upset that she wasn’t displaying any sort of sorrow for what happened: how could she _not_ be sad? How _dare_ she wasn’t sad?

“I need work.” Mike spoke, without really thinking.

“Work?” Jessica echoed, raising her eyebrows. “I thought I had been clear: you have the day off.”

“I don’t want it.” Mike insisted. The more he thought about it, the more the idea of having some papers to concentrate on was appealing. His brain always worked so fast and he wasn’t even sure he would have been able to stop concentrating on Harvey, but he had to try putting his efforts on something else. Maybe having something to actually do would have helped.

“You are in no shape to work.” Jessica pointed out. “You have just suffered a great loss, there is _no way_ I am letting you near anything concerning my clients.”

“ _You_ are working.” Mike spitted out, crossing his arms. He figured it probably would have been more convincing if he hadn’t slept on the floor, therefore surely looking like he had just had lots of sex and no time to shower.

“ _I_ don’t look like a wreck.” Jessica replied, without missing a beat. “Go home.”

For a moment, there was Harvey in front of him, saying those exact same words after Grammy had died and Mike had started screaming at him because everything was so shitty and everything seemed to irritate him. He remembered being vaguely surprised when Harvey hadn’t scolded him for disrespecting him in front of everyone, and then being even more surprised when his boss had shown up on his doorstep to check up on him.

Mike’s vision became blurry and the words came out harshly, desperately: “You are not my boss!”

Technically she _was_ , she was everybody’s boss, but at the same time she _wasn’t_ , not for Mike. He worked for Harvey, he was _Harvey_ ’s associate, he took orders from him, he stood by _him_. What was he even doing there anymore?

Jessica was now just a vague shape through a pool of burning tears. Mike barely noticed she was standing, walking towards him. She grabbed his arm and made him sit, handing him a tissue to dry his eyes and a glass of water.

“I’ll be back.” She warned, before stepping out of the office. She came back walking alongside with Rachel, and before Mike knew it there were gentle hands trying to clean up his face, soft touches he found himself desperately leaning on, and then a cab, and their cold apartment, and an embrace that didn’t smell like he needed it to, an embrace that wasn’t enough right now but was all he had left.

 

 

-

The room was too crowded for Mike’s liking.

Rachel was holding on tight on his arm, as if she was afraid that he was going to run away any moment – Mike couldn’t blame her, not really: he had no idea what was preventing him from leaving that place filled with people in black, chattering like it was a party and not a fucking funeral.

Most of the people present were from the firm: Mike spotted Jessica, because she was too tall not to notice, Louis, who was talking with Donna, both of them with red eyes and strained smiles on their faces, Kyle and other associates talking as if it was just another Monday, even if some of them did look a little uncomfortable, as if they weren’t sure they were supposed to be there. They weren’t: if you asked Mike, that funeral would have been only for Harvey’s family and friends, no co-workers or damn neighbours allowed – Mike had stayed far away from the neighbour responsible for all that; he didn’t want to hold it against her, he did realize that it was unfair, but he still preferred to not have anything to do with her.

There was also Ray, standing in a corner and looking extremely sad, and Dana Scott. Mike had no idea who had called her: she was standing alone in her beautiful black dress, looking impeccable except for her eyes filled with tears. Her hands were gripping her arms as in an attempt to hug herself, and Mike was almost temped to go to her, trying to comfort her or maybe trying to find out if she could understand his pain.

Before he could make up his mind, a man approached Mike: his smile looked much like Donna and Louis’ and he had been crying recently. There was a little kid holding his hand and he was followed by a woman and another child. The second kid, the youngest probably, looked so much like Harvey it made Mike sick.

When the man was closer, Mike noticed how his eyes reminded him of Harvey and how some expressions he did were identical: he realized who he was before he had introduced himself – Donna would have been proud of his deduction skills.

“I am Marcus Specter.” He said, offering his hand to Mike to shake.

“Mike Ross.” He replied, his voice hoarse because he hadn’t talked that much lately. His mouth felt funny as he attempted to smile.

“These are my sons, Simon and Daniel. She’s my wife, Katie.”

She shook his hand, offering a “Pleasure to meet you” and a “sorry for your loss”, even if she looked like it was hers too and there would have been no need for condolences. Mike’s eyes kept flying back to Daniel, the little kid who had inherited so much of Harvey: it was so weird to see a kid version of him sucking his thumb with watering eyes, wearing jeans and a messy black shirt. He was painful to watch, and Mike had to fight the urge to kneel in front of him and hug him tight, trying to feel Harvey through him.

In the meantime, Katie and Rachel had met and they had decided to “leave the boys some space”. Mike found himself alone with Harvey’s little brother and absolutely no idea of what to do. He didn’t even know much about the man to begin with: Harvey wasn’t exactly prone to share.

“He told me about you.” Marcus said, when it became clear that Mike wasn’t going to say anything.

“Really?” Mike asked. His surprise was genuine: he couldn’t imagine Harvey telling his brother about him, as if he was someone important.

“Yeah.” Marcus chuckled. “Mostly he complained, but he sounded- Really affectionate. Man, I was even a little a jealous, you know?”

Mike smiled lightly, and this time it felt a little less forced. “No reason to be. He loved you a lot.” Not that Harvey ever told him explicitly, but it was clear as day that he would have done anything to protect his little brother.

“I know.” Marcus replied. His smile began to fade as tears filled his eyes. “I hadn’t called him in _ages_. I think I last spoke to him two months ago, maybe. Sometimes it happened, you know, with work and everything… Sometimes we sent each other a couple of texts, but mostly our lives had become separated. I wish I’d called him.”

Marcus swallowed and sighed, pushing back the tears as he glanced at his children, not too far from them.

Mike nodded. “I keep thinking…” He whispered. “That if I had been there nothing would have happened. Sometimes we plan work stuff at his condo, but this time I simply called him. If I had been there, I would have crashed on his couch for the night and maybe…”

“Don’t say that.” Marcus cut him off. “You couldn’t have known.”

“You too.” Mike replied.

Marcus smiled sadly. “Yeah, but it’s still shitty not to call your brother.”

Mike didn’t find anything to say to that, even if he knew that it wasn’t fair of Marcus to blame himself for something that was a habit and that Harvey probably didn’t even mind that much.

“He loved you a lot too, by the way. I could tell, I grew up with the guy.” Marcus added. Mike was left speechless, with tears threatening to fall and his stomach twisted. Rachel approached him as Jessica walked on the stage to start her speech.

Mike knew that she would speak first, then he would be expected to say a few words, maybe also Donna, then Marcus.

Mike had tried to write his speech, but whenever he managed to put down a half-sentence he realised that it wasn’t really enough, that it didn’t do him justice and that he wasn’t going to say that bullshit in front of all those people. Truth was there were no words to describe what Harvey meant to him and how he was feeling now that he was gone.

He hoped that he could somehow avoid the speech at the last minute. 

“First of all, thank you all for being here. It means a lot that you decided to join us to offer your support and condolences.” Jessica began. Mike fought the instinct to snort: not really, he didn’t appreciate it at all, he wanted all those people, now even closer to him to listen to the speech, just _gone_.

“Harvey Specter was the best closer in the city. I think pretty much all of you know that, even if you just saw him walking around our firm and never exchanged a word with him. But the truth not many of us know is that he was much more than that. He wasn’t only a talented attorney, he was also a just man. Tough, maybe, but fair. He valued justice and no matter what he tried to tell the world, he wasn’t selfish.”

Mike could see some looks of opposition around the associates and the partners of the firm: rationally, he knew that it was a normal reaction, since they didn’t know Harvey for anything else than a great closer walking around in expensive suits like he was above anyone else. It still angered him, because there was nothing weird in that statement for him and it wasn’t fair that most of the people in that room didn’t know it.

“He cared about his clients, but that was his job. He cared about our firm and his partners and friends: he wasn’t an easy person to have any kind of relationship with, because he was determined to hide the best side of him in an attempt to protect himself, but whoever has been lucky enough to be dear to him knows that he would have done anything for his loved ones.”

There were so many things Harvey had done for him that Mike’s brain was probably going to explode as they all came back to him in a flash: hiring him and later saying what he needed to hear to convince him not to quit, facing Trevor’s kidnappers so that he wouldn’t have to, offering him a place to stay when Rachel cheated on him, keeping him company after Grammy’s death…

“He was an exceptional man. He came from nothing and I am glad that I bet on him when I had the chance to, because he deserved it and, more selfishly, because I earned an extremely valuable asset… And his respect. Having his respect makes you feel important, because not many people are looked at that way by him. Hearing words of appreciation from him was kind of rare, but worth it.”

Mike saw Louis sobbing in his tissues, hugging Donna, who was silently crying; Marcus was hugging his son, who was hiding half of his face in his father’s shoulder while his eyes looked though the crowd: Mike couldn’t see Harvey’s brother’s face, but he was pretty sure that those tears he had seen earlier where now falling.

Mike was stuck in that obnoxious limbo where he felt like he was about to cry his eyes out but couldn’t bring himself to actually let go.

“I had the fortune to be his mentor, to be able to say that part of who he was he learnt from me. I have never been as proud as in those moments when he reminded me of how good he was at his job… Even if he often gave me headaches and rarely did as he was told, the smartass.”

Jessica was smiling and Mike could hear some people chuckle around him. Donna and Rachel were two of those people. Mike himself cracked a smile, but it tasted bitter, like he was forced to do it.

“In conclusion, I am glad that I had the pleasure to meet him and to be close to him, because he was an amazing man. The world may remember him as a brilliant attorney, but in my mind he’ll always be the loyal and charming mentee who was the closest thing I’ve ever had to a son. Thank you.”

The applause that followed Jessica’s last words echoed in Mike’s head as Rachel reminded him that it was his turn, encouragingly stroking his back, and his heart was beating so fast and he didn’t want to do it, he _couldn’t_ do it with Jessica’s words still echoing in his head – _the closest thing I’ve ever had to a son_ – and Harvey’s ghost flashing in front of his eyes – _no matter what he tried to tell the world, he wasn’t selfish_ -, as if to remind him that he had been real, that he had lost something so real and so wonderful – _he would have done anything for his loved ones_ – that it seemed impossible that it had ended like that.

“Mike, come on.” Rachel insisted, gently pushing him.

Mike started to move like a robot, his wide-open eyes watching the people around him, an annoying buzzing in his head as it became clearer with each step that he couldn’t do it, that he didn’t have anything to say – _he was an exceptional man_.

He stood on the stage, alone after Jessica left him with a pat on his shoulder and a smile - _I am glad that I had the pleasure to meet him and to be close to him, because he was an amazing man_.

“I-” He began, struggling to find the words and fighting against whatever was suddenly stuck in his throat. “I don’t really- Have a speech.” He confessed. “I just- I owe Harvey a lot- And…”

Harvey had picked him up from his shitty life, he had offered him the job he had always dreamt off, he had offered him good money and his support in a new world of suits and papers, he had given him his dream _and_ a family, he had been protecting him since day one, he had put his own life and career at risk more than once for him, he had always denied it but his actions had made it clear that he cared and Mike knew that whenever he needed support, whenever he was in trouble or needed a place to crash he could go to Harvey and everything would be okay. And now he was left with a Harvey-Specter-shaped hole in his life and it was so awful and lonely and Mike had the feeling that nothing would have been okay ever again.

“I can’t do it.” He muttered, his eyes full of tears once again as he stepped off the stage and walked past the whispering crowd, almost running by the time he reached the door. Rachel was calling him, but Mike didn’t turn. She ran and grabbed his arm, stopping him in the middle of the road.

“Where are you going?” She asked, and when Mike turned he saw panic and worry on her face.

“I can’t do it!” Mike said, almost yelled, helplessly gesturing with his arms. The sentence came out mixed with a hysterical chuckle. “I just _can’t!”_

It wasn’t like he was the only one who could speak: there was Jessica, and Donna, and Marcus, even Louis; they had all known Harvey longer than him, there was no reason to force him to speak, why couldn’t they just leave him alone?

“You don’t have to.” Rachel assured. “I’m sorry, we shouldn’t have tried to force you. You can come back in, you don’t have to speak if you don’t want to.”

Hearing her say that calmed him down a little, but he felt claustrophobic at the mere thought of going back in and hearing another speech about how awesome Harvey was and how he’d be missed. He didn’t want to be around people, he wanted to be alone with his grief and all the little things about Harvey that his damn memory was throwing at his face.

“No, I- I want to go for a walk.” He said, glancing at the building behind them. Before Rachel could reply, he added: “Alone. Please.”

She didn’t look happy about it, not at all: she frowned and crossed her arms, probably thinking of a convincing argument to make him change his mind. “I don’t think it’s a good idea.” She said, carefully.

“It’s just a walk.” He said, rather desperately. “I- I need to be on my own. Please.”

Rachel sighed. “Alright. I’ll go to Donna’s place so you can be on your own for as long as you need to. But promise me that you won’t turn off your phone, you won’t do anything stupid and you’ll call immediately if you need me.”

Mike broke into one of the rare sincere smiles he had indulged in lately. “Thank you.” He said.

She nodded and left him with a kiss on the lips and a quick hug.

 

 

-

Jessica had always prided herself on being pretty self-aware.

A woman in her position of power couldn’t afford to let emotions blatantly cloud her judgment or a cry of ‘weak, foolish lady!’ would have risen from the crowd immediately. She was used to hiding her feelings, coming across as cold and manipulative, which at the very least taught people that they had to respect her as an authority, if not as a human being. She was okay with that, mostly.

This didn’t mean though that she wasn’t in touch with her emotions: she knew what she felt, even if it usually took her sometime of self-reflection to actually realize it, and denial wasn’t really her thing.

So, she knew that there was more than one reason why she had kept Harvey’s phone: the first and official reason was business related, the second was sentimental. The official version was that she certainly couldn’t spend hours contacting each and every one of Harvey’s clients to tell them the sad news, so she had decided to keep his phone just in case they had decided to call there instead of at the office.

The other reason was simple nostalgia: she had browsed through his phone, damn privacy rules.

Harvey hadn’t personalized it that much: his background was one of those already saved on the phone when you bought it, his contacts were saved by name and surname and his ringtone was sober.

But there were some pictures saved: one of Harvey and his brother, one with his nephews, one with his dad, another of Mike curved on some papers and thinking deeply, another of Donna and Louis dancing at some celebration, another one – much to her surprise – had caught Jessica smiling with a glass of Scotch, on Harvey’s couch. The last one had been taken without Harvey’s knowledge, but he hadn’t deleted it, which spoke volumes: it was a nice shot of Mike sitting in Harvey’s office, explaining what looked like a great idea judging by his expression, while his mentor was standing behind him, leaning towards the documents while smiling softly and proudly at the kid, who totally hadn’t noticed.

There was also some blackmail material, which included Louis in a ridiculous dress, Mike sleeping with his mouth open and drooling, and Donna wearing curlers.

 

When Harvey’s phone rang, Jessica was sitting in her office, trying to stop her brain from projecting the image of Harvey walking in the hallway with that arrogant smirk of his whenever she caught what was going on outside with the corner of her eye.

It was torture, but she needed to hold it together, at least at work. Nothing prevented her from breaking down at home, though. Except her pride and the belief that if she had let herself fall she wouldn’t have been able to pick herself up. But she was confident that if the day arrived when she could no longer hold it together, she would have noticed and found a way to contain it while at the office. After all, she could have left at nine in the morning and no one would have said a word.

At the sound of the unfamiliar ringtone, she stood up, walking slowly towards the phone and glancing at the screen.

 _MIKE,_ it said.

Jessica’s mouth twisted into a thin line, as she took the phone and brought it back with her while she went back to sit.

The kid was a mess: it had been clear since the second he had learnt about what had happened and everyone had realized it at the funeral. Jessica couldn’t blame him: it was obvious that he was starving for recognition and for a mentor. He had found that in Harvey and the man had become what little resemblance of a family he had left after his grandmother had passed, she couldn’t blame Mike for being devastated now that he had left him too.

Still, it was extremely sad to see him calling Harvey, as if there was a chance that he was going to answer.

The time that it took to the phone to stop ringing seemed centuries long, but in the end on Harvey’s phone appeared a missed call and a new voicemail. Jessica almost considered not listening to it, but it wasn’t like the kid was in a good place at the moment and that message would have probably helped her realize if he needed any help.

“ _Hey, Harvey. You-”_ Mike gurgled. He was obviously _very_ drunk. “ _You’re a dick. Where’re you? You weren’t supposed to leave me alone, I thought you wanted to clean up my messes, it’s your job and all that stuff. You look_ so _serious when you say it, dude- oh shit, you don’t want me to call you dude_.” He stopped, thinking about it for a second. “ _Don’t care: dude, you have this_ look _, like- like it’s some important shit, like you are responsible for me or somethin’. And it makes me feel good and cared for, just so you know, thanks, Harvey. You should answer your phone, you know, I miss you already and I need you here, never liked to drink alone. Or smoke. Smoking alone is not that good, we had fun when we did it together that time. And we were also geniuses, yeah. Harvey_ …” He moaned, stressing the last vocal so much that it hurt Jessica’s ears. “ _Come here, please?”_ A pause, then a chuckle. “ _Of course you won’t, you can’t even answer the phone, because you are_ dead _. Shit, you are-_ Shit.”

The voicemail ended, leaving Jessica with her chest heavy and her stomach twisted. She was going to call back, but fortunately she realized in time that using Harvey’s phone would have been a cruel joke. She quickly reached for hers, finding Mike’s number in her contacts – yes, she had the number of every one of her employees on her phone.

She waited for the kid to pick up, but he didn’t. She looked at the phone in disbelief, cursing and hoping that he hadn’t thrown his phone in the trash or something, then tried again.

This time, someone answered, but it wasn’t Mike: “ _Hello?”_

It was a woman.

“Who’s this?” Jessica asked, even if she imagined that it was the waitress of the bar Mike was hopefully in – better drunk in a bar that on the road that late in the evening – or just some kind stranger who saw how messy Mike was and wanted to help.

“ _Hi, I’m Lisa. Your- friend here has handed me his phone saying that you were going to torment him about some speech, then he proceeded saying something about a funeral and… Suits? I think? I don’t know, he said to send you away, but I actually think he shouldn’t be alone right now_.”

Jessica sighed, rubbing her face. It was going to be a long night. She asked for the bar’s address and asked to Lisa if she could wait for her to arrive. Fortunately, Lisa was kind enough to agree.

 

Mike Ross was even in a worst shape than Jessica had imagined: his hair looked like he had just woken up after a forty-eight hours long sleep, his cheeks were burning red and there was saliva at the corners of his mouth. His suit was ruined – Jessica didn’t even want to think about how much money he had spent on drinks that he had ended up spilling on his shirt -, or at least the part that was there, because his jacket was nowhere to be found. His tie was so loosened that it was a miracle that it was still there, and Mike himself was lying on the bar’s counter, mumbling and crying and laughing all at once.

The woman sitting beside him was trying to calm him down, but she wasn’t having much luck.

Jessica sighed, swallowing a big block of compassion towards the kid.

“Hi, I’m Jessica.” She told Lisa. “We spoke on the phone.”

As kind as she was, the woman – or girl: she looked around twenty years old, twenty-five at most – seemed relieved at the thought of not having to look after Mike anymore. Even if she left with a recommendation to take good care of him.

“Mike, it’s time to go.” Jessica announced.

Mike sat up instantly, looking at her with wide eyes. “What are you doing here?” He screamed. “I couldn’t do the speech, leave me alone!”

“I don’t care about the speech, but I have to take you home.” Jessica explained, patiently, with the same tone she used for particularly stubborn – and stupid – clients.

“Don’t wanna.” Mike wined. “I wanna drink myself into oblivion. Oblivion sounds nice.” He nodded at himself, grinning as he tried to ask for another round. The bartender eyed them suspiciously, and Jessica shook her head to let him know that no, he didn’t have to get him another round.

“Mike, let’s go.” Jessica said again, coming closer and gripping his arm. Mike lifted his eyes on her, frowning.

“You have free alcohol at home?” He asked, whispering.

“Sure. Plenty of it.” Jessica replied, which wasn’t even a lie, she just omitted that she wasn’t going to give him a drop of it.

“Then fine.” Mike shrugged, standing up and stumbling towards the door – it probably was just Jessica’s grip that kept him on his feet.

He stopped half-way, screaming: “Wait!”

He had the most panicked eyes, they were scary.

“What is it?” Jessica asked, calmly.

“My tie!” He yelled. “Where’s my tie? Harvey hates when I forget the tie!”

Jessica contemplated the idea of just slapping him in the back of his head and ignoring his screams, but she didn’t want to cause a scene – or _more_ of a scene - in the middle of the road, so she simply pointed out that he was wearing it. Mike checked and looked relieved. For about two seconds.

“My jacket!” He yelled. And damn, Jessica didn’t really have an answer for that. “Harvey-” Mike stopped, staring at the nothingness for a couple of seconds, then frowned deeply. “Fuck it, he won’t know, he left me.” He looked like he was the pissed, extremely pissed, then a second later he was sobbing and crying as he repeated that Harvey left him alone and that it wasn’t fair.

Jessica managed to throw her arm around his hips during all that and to drag him into the car, securing his belt and ignoring him as he kept sobbing and mumbling senseless stuff about Harvey.

Sitting on the driver seat, Jessica contemplated the idea of calling Rachel Zane and dropping Mike off with her: they were in a relationship, after all, she was the cleverest choice for taking care of him in that situation. But Jessica had seen her leaving with Donna and she assumed that they were still together. Donna wasn’t doing too good herself, and it wouldn’t have been wise nor kind to make Rachel leave her or take care of both her and Mike.

After all, Jessica could handle one drunk kid on her own.

 

Jessica was developing a massive headache after about ten minutes in the car with Mike Ross. He just wouldn’t shut up, except to mumble incoherent and sometimes not understandable words. Jessica actually _preferred_ it when he didn’t make any sense, because when his ramblings were clearer they were all about Harvey and little details Mike was bound to never forget and how much he wanted him there.

Jessica found it difficult to swallow and breathe freely as she tried to not listen to him.

“He does this _thing_ with his jacket-” Mike was saying, smiling as if it was the funniest thing ever. He switched mood so quickly that it was disorientating: a second ago he was sobbing, now he looked almost happy. “Like- He closes the button with one hand, you know? He doesn’t even look and it’s all casual and shit, I like it when he does it-”

“I’m sure you do.” Jessica sighed, because it was nice from time to time to interrupt Mike’s monologue and hear her own voice – and no, it wasn’t as narcissistic as it sounded: you try being stuck in a car with a rambling, drunk kid who wouldn’t shut up to save his life.

“I’m gonna throw up.” Mike announced, his voice completely flat and his face inexpressive. Jessica pulled over just in time for him to open the door and throw up on the road. At least he hadn’t puked all over the car and they could head to her apartment without smelling whatever Mike had been drinking – she could still smell it pretty well thanks to how much he had spilled on his clothes, but at least it wasn’t mixed with food and stomach acid.

“Are you done?” Jessica asked, calmly, as soon as Mike straightened up on his seat.

He looked at her for a couple of seconds, then widened his eyes and his face became a grotesque representation of _terror_.  “You are gonna kill me.” Mike whispered, as if he had just come to a terrible revelation and now he was afraid to say it out loud and make it real.

It took all Jessica’s self-control to not roll his eyes and say that she was actually considering it. “No, I’m not. I just want to bring you home.”

Mike didn’t look reassured. “So that you can murder me!” He yelled. God, _why_ was he being that paranoid now?

“No, I _won’t_.” She insisted.

“Bullshit, you always wanted to kill me, but Harvey protected me, and he ain’t here and I’m alone with you so I’m _dead_.” Mike explained.

On one hand, it wasn’t that bad that she was intimidating enough that the kid thought she would have been capable of murder – it was good for the job, keeping her position had never been easy -, on the other hand, right now it wasn’t really doing her any good.

“Listen, I promise I won’t kill you. I may be tough, but I am _not_ a murderer.” _Yet_.

 

They made it to Jessica’s apartment with Mike somehow managing not to throw up in her car or on her shoes, but apparently the kid just couldn’t take it anymore as soon as he made it through the door: he fell on all fours on the floor, and Jessica thanked whatever had made her want to clean up the carpet yesterday, or she would have had to scratch that mess away from that too instead of just cleaning the floor.

She brought to Mike the first plastic bag she could find, because she knew pretty well that staring at a pool of your own puke wasn’t a pleasant experience, and waited for him to be able to move before helping him to the bathroom. Sitting by the toilet surely wasn’t the most comfortable position ever, but the kid looked extremely pale with a vague shade of green on his face, so she figured it wouldn’t have been long before he needed to throw up again. She didn’t have that many plastic bags at home.

“How many drinks did you have?” Jessica sighed, opening a window even if it was pretty cold outside: that smell of alcohol and vomit was disgusting.

Mike shrugged, his cheek resting against the toilet. “Don’t know.” He mumbled. “Some weed, four rounds of Whiskey maybe…”

Alcohol _and weed_ then. Awesome.

“I am positive you drank more than four rounds of Whiskey.” Jessica commented. Mike answered starting to throw up again.

She was standing a couple of feet away from him, her arms crossed and her back resting on the wall next to the window. Maybe Mike would have needed some physical comfort, but she wasn’t the person he needed it from and he was probably too busy expelling his own internal organs to notice anything going on around him anyway. And if he had noticed, he would have been weirded out by Jessica Pearson stroking his back.

And, last but not least, she wasn’t getting closer than necessary to all that vomit. She just stepped near Mike when he seemed to be done a couple of minutes so that she could flash the toilet.

 

Getting him to shower was a challenge.

Now that he wasn’t busy vomiting anymore, he started talking non-stop again, explaining all the reasons why he didn’t need to strip and shower. Jessica barely listened to him, taking off his tie as he insisted that he didn’t need to be babied and that he could shower on his own – except he couldn’t even _stand_ , let alone shower.

When Jessica proceeded to taking off his pants, Mike started giggling and mumbling something about Jessica ‘buying him dinner first’.

Jessica just rolled her eyes: the situation itself was awkward as Hell, or maybe would have been if she hadn’t been through that before. Harvey could absolutely hold his liquor, but there had been that one time, many years ago, when he had drunk dialled Jessica, _sobbing_ and crying, and she had come the rescue, to make sure that he didn’t kill himself while he couldn’t understand what he was doing. She still didn’t know much about what was going on that night, and she never asked: she had figured that if Harvey had wanted to bring it up, he would have. He never did, and she was fine with that.

Even then, stripping her protégé naked hadn’t been as embarrassing as physically difficult. Now that she was older and Mike was seriously little more than a kid in her eyes, she was feeling no embarrassment at all: it wasn’t like she had never seen a man naked.

With her arms under Mike’s armpits – the kid just wouldn’t stand on his own -, she reached for the shower, turning the water on and forcing him under the cold jet. Mike protested and moaned, almost chocked himself with the water, giggled when she scratched him with a sponge full of soup to take away the unpleasant smell of vomit, but in the end Jessica managed to get it done. Even if she was almost as wet as Mike by the time they were done.

“It’s cold.” Mike protested, shivering as Jessica made him lean on the sink to dry him with a towel.

“I know, I’ll get you some clothes.” She replied. She was pretty cold as well: she tried to not concentrate on the drops of icy water rolling down her legs, but she didn’t even consider closing the window, because even if Mike didn’t smell that bad anymore, the bathroom surely did.

She wrapped him up in another towel, leaving his clothes in the shower, and dropped him on the bed in the guestroom, recommending him to _not_ walk around and assuring that she’d be back in a minute. Mike nodded, curling up in his towel and closing his eyes.

Jessica quickly headed towards her room, got out of her wet clothes and looked at the clock: it wasn’t that late, hopefully he’d be awake.

She walked towards the front door, sparing a disgusted glance for the mess on her floor, and a couple of minutes later her neighbour was greeting her with a confused look.

“Jessica.” He said, frowning. John was wearing black sweatpants and a big grey t-shirt with sauce stains on it, which probably meant ‘movie night’. Jessica was relieved: she hadn’t woken him up, then. “It’s an odd hour for a visit.” He commented, but he didn’t seem annoyed.

Jessica smiled politely. “I’m sorry to interrupt your night, but I need a favour.”

John nodded, stepping aside to let her come in. She glanced at the couch, where John’s husband, Stephan, raised a can of beer as a greeting. She smiled, turning towards John once again. “I need to borrow some clothes.” She explained.

“Are you trying crossdressing?” John joked.

Jessica shook her head, politely cracking a smile. She really had no time for jokes right now, and she wasn’t even in the mood, to be honest. “I have a drunk boy wrapped in a towel and probably sleeping in my guestroom.” She explained.

John blinked. “A drunk boy. Should I ask?”

“No, don’t.”

John nodded, inviting her to follow him with a gesture of his hand.

Jessica went back to her apartment with a pair of boxers, blue sweatpants and a t-shirt. They were all a little too big for Mike, but they would do.

As predictable, she found him asleep. She mercilessly woke him up to find out that he was so tired that he acted like a doll in her hands, letting Jessica dress him up without complaining, just mumbling some nonsense once in a while.

The sheets were humid where Mike had rested his head, but he didn’t seem to care as he slipped under them and closed his eyes once again. Jessica made him turn on his side and left him with a basin near his bed – he should have been done throwing up, but better safe than sorry.

She sighed, turning off the light and preparing to clean up the floor before going to bed herself.

Damn Harvey, he had left such a mess behind – she missed him so much already.

 

 

-

The first thing Mike noticed was the sun shining through the window, in spite of the closed curtains. The first, instinctive thought running around his head was: _Shit, Harvey is going to kill me_.

Then he realized that he had never had lilac curtains and that he wasn’t on Harvey’s couch or at the office or in any other place he could have possibly fallen asleep at.

It’s only when he heard a sound coming from God knows where and his head screamed in agony that he remembered how much he had been drinking the night before and, most importantly, _why_ he had been drowning himself in alcohol – and pot, he was positive that pot had been involved at some point – to the point of waking up he had no idea where.

 _Shit_. He thought, rolling on his stomach to bury his face in the pillow, as if that could have changed the reality of facts or something. His head was going to explode and he felt nauseous, but he was pretty sure that the last part had little do to with him being embarrassingly hungover and _much_ to do with the fact that he felt like he was going to burst crying any damn minute.

“Good morning.” A voice announced.

Mike jumped, immediately turning his head towards the door, because there was no way that was- “Jessica?” He breathed, his throat hoarse and his eyes about to jump off his face for the shock.

“Glad that you remember my name.” She commented. She was wearing jeans and a shirt, she was holding what Mike assumed was breakfast and she looked so casual, as if all of that was _normal_.

Mike started remembering quite embarrassing stuff about _vomit_ and _showers_ , and his cheeks started burning. _What the fuck_.

“There is water, pills and some food if you feel like it.” Jessica explained. “Suit yourself.” She added, before turning her back on him and heading out of the door. She closed it behind her, probably to give him some privacy. Mike was far too shocked to actually appreciate it.

The mere thought of actually eating his breakfast made him want to throw up again. He remembered quite clearly puking all over Jessica’s apartment- Shit, he was at Jessica’s apartment. He had been so wasted that _Jessica_ had picked him up.

His stomach turned: under normal circumstances, it would have been Harvey. The man wasn’t exactly touchy-feely and if asked ‘Do you care about Mike Ross?’ he was likely to say that he didn’t give a crap, but Mike was sure that, if he had called him in the middle of the night asking to be picked up from a bar, Harvey would have got dressed and showed up in no time.

Harvey was his friend, he was supposed to be the one taking care of him, not _Jessica_ , who probably didn’t even _like_ him.

Mike looked around the room without letting his gaze actually rest on anything, and he hated every inch of that place: he hated that he wasn’t on Harvey’s couch, he hated the lilac curtains and the wrong view, he hated the wardrobe in front of him and the white walls.

Mike fought back tears of frustration, reaching for the water and pills that Jessica had brought to him.

Part of him would have wanted to just bury his head in the pillow once again and stay there the whole day, possibly forever, forgetting about Harvey and Pearson Specter Litt and _whatever_ , because his life didn’t actually seem to matter anymore. But then he realized that he couldn’t really forget about Harvey, having someone to distract him from it would have been nice and he couldn’t actually just barricade himself in what he assumed was Jessica’s guest room.

He stood up, taking a couple of seconds to wait for the objects in the room to stop spinning, and he realized that the clothes he was wearing weren’t his. He wondered where Jessica got them from – Harvey would have lent him a pair of sweat pants and a t-shirt, they would have been a little too loose because their body types were different, but they would have smelled like Harvey and Mike would have felt okay in them.

Jessica was eating a croissant, sitting in the kitchen with files in front of her. Mike realized that he was supposed to be at work, that it was incredibly late and- _Shit_.

“Does Rachel know I’m here?” He asked.

Jessica lifted her eyes for a second before going back to her work. “She called you this morning. I told her that you drunk dialled me and that I put you to bed. She said to call her when you wake up, she’s worried.”

“Thanks.” Mike mumbled. He didn’t want to talk to Rachel, not right now. He didn’t want to explain how much he had drunk or answer questions about how he was feeling. He didn’t want anyone to try talking him into discussing Harvey, and he was pretty sure that Rachel would have insisted that he _needed_ it or some shit. He didn’t need to talk, he just wanted to get high and forget, to feel less heavy, even only for a little while.

“You’re welcome.” Jessica replied.

Mike couldn’t tear his eyes away from the papers before her: that had been his life for the last few years. He had been filing paperwork and proofing contracts, he had been living his dream because Harvey had seen him and for whatever reason he had decided that Mike was worth the risk. And now- He realized he couldn’t do it anymore.

“I quit.” He said.

The words hovered around the room, while Jessica lifted her head and narrowed her eyes. “Excuse me?”

Mike took a deep breath. “I quit.” He repeated. “I’ll give you a formal letter of resignation and-”

“You are not quitting.” Jessica interrupted him, standing up, the files apparently forgotten.

Mike frowned. What was the matter with her? She had never seemed too happy about him putting her firm in jeopardy with his presence, what was going on?

“I thought you would have been thrilled to have me gone.” He pointed out. “We both know that I was still working at the firm just because of-” _Harvey_. The name usually slipped from his lips so easily, but right now he couldn’t bring himself to pronounce it. He didn’t need to, though: Jessica knew who he was talking about. “What changed?” Mike added.

Jessica’s arms were crossed and her eyes were narrowed. She looked angry, but Mike had no idea why she would be. “ _Everything_ changed.” She replied. “He wouldn’t want you to quit.”

Mike scoffed. “And since when do you care about what he wants?”

“ _Excuse me?”_

“Come on.” Mike scoffed again. Part of him knew that he was taking a dangerous route and, Hell, he was even pretty sure that he would have regretted ever opening his mouth, but he just- He had started, and he couldn’t bring himself to stop. Why would he, anyway? What could she do to him? _Fire_ him? “You don’t give a shit about him. You have been your usual, detached, unimpressed self in these past days, you aren’t even a little bit sad- Well, I assume that you are sad for the loss of such a valuable asset, but that doesn’t count. Nice speech at the funeral, by the way. Except you didn’t mean a word of it.”

He had thrown his venom at her, now he was waiting for her to fight back, with the excitation of a mad, probably suicidal, man. He almost hoped for a fist fight: Jessica kind of seemed like the type of woman that would literally kick ass.

Jessica, though, didn’t slap or yell at him. She just stared, taking her time before asking: “You think I don’t care about him?”

Mike hated that she still was so calm. “I _know_ you don’t. That’s what you’ve shown me.”

Jessica nodded. “Yeah. Alright.” She muttered, bowing her head for a second. “Let _me_ ask you something:” She continued, lifting her eyes. “why do you think you are here?”

Mike didn’t answer.

“I’m sure you aren’t dumb enough to believe that I have suddenly decided that I like you. You are here- Because _Harvey_ would have kicked both of our asses if I had let you die, drunk and high, in some black alley. You are here- Because you are his _legacy_.” Jessica had taken two steps towards him, and she was now towering over him, looking at Mike with her eyes burning with anger. “You are all that I have left of him, and I am _not_ going to let you throw your life and your future out of the window. You aren’t allowed to do that.”

Mike was silent. He swallowed, trying to keep himself from starting to cry like a scolded kid, ashamed of his words and crashed by the weight of what she had just said, because she had once again reminded him of what he had lost, because the only reason why Jessica now felt like she had to look out for Mike was that Harvey wasn’t there to do it himself.

“You think I’m not mourning?” Jessica went on. “You think I don’t _miss_ him? I loved that smartass idiot, Mike. He was for me what you were for him. Just because I don’t mourn the way _you_ want me to, it doesn’t mean that I am not mourning at all.”

Mike swallowed. His saliva tasted bitter and he couldn’t see Jessica’s face anymore, blinded by his own tears. He blinked, deciding that he didn’t give a shit anymore if he looked pathetic or childish. “I just- I’m sorry.” He whispered. “I just feel _so_ alone-”

Mike’s shoulders were shaking and he was now sobbing uncontrollably, without even realizing it. She was right: there was no right way to mourn, but no one seemed to care the way Mike did, no one seemed to be just as broken as him and it made him feel so angry and kind of special at the same time. He hated it, but he prided himself with the unique bond he and Harvey shared.

He just wanted someone to understand, but he _knew_ that no one would.

“I know, kid.” Jessica nodded. “I know.”

Then she was hugging him for the second time in that period and it was so wrong and weird but comforting, because she was tall and strong and seemed to have it all together and Mike was just so desperate for someone to tell him what to do.

“I don’t want to do this without him. I want to quit.” He whispered against Jessica’s shoulder.

“Never make a decision like that in time of distress.” She replied. “And you know that he would hate for you to quit. He wouldn’t let you.”

“He’s not here.” Mike pointed out, before another sob cut him off.

“But I am. And I’m not letting you quit either.”

Mike didn’t know why those words were so comforting.

 

 

-

 

Mike didn’t talk about it.

Rachel had tried to make him open up, but whenever she brought up the subject Mike twitched his mouth into some kind of grimace, physically pained by the idea of talking about him, and he found a way to flight. Mike just hoped that eventually she’d stop trying.

He went back to work.

The office was overwhelming, with all those people talking and life going on as if nothing had happened. Mike was burying himself in paralegal work, going to Louis to request all there was to do, assuring that he was in the right shape to do it.

Some mornings were worse than others and he came to work after smoking some pot. Or a lot of it. It wasn’t a big deal though: Mike was good at appearing normal under the influence of drugs. Harvey would have surely noticed, but Harvey wasn’t there and everybody seemed to be afraid to look at him in the eyes, as if talking to him would somehow break him. Mike didn’t mind: having all those people who _knew_ around was already too much, if they had started bothering him with their condolences he would have gone mad.

Sometimes, head buried in paperwork, he forgot, and for a brief second he looked at the clock, worried that he’d deliver the files too late and Harvey would be mad at him. Then he realized that he wasn’t _Harvey_ ’s associate anymore, just an associate, and he forced himself to go back to work.

Sometimes, he heard his voice. He would be copying a file or walking around the office or just heading home and he would hear Harvey calling his name. He turned, like an idiot, but Harvey was never there, and Mike’s heart sank a little deeper.

Harvey’s office had been left intact. Jessica had given a key to him. Mike had no idea who else had access to it, but he didn’t really care: when he felt like it was too much and he would just start crying like a baby hadn’t he done something to calm down, he headed towards Harvey’s office, almost expecting him to be there, sitting on his chair, ready to throw some movie quote at him or scold him for being late.

The office was empty instead, but in there Mike felt slightly better. Everything was so Harvey in there that it almost felt like having him back.

Sometimes, Mike would catch Harvey’s face out of the corner of the eye. He would see his grin and his hand fixing his tie, and Mike would turn, every time, as if there was a chance that he hadn’t been mistaken.

Sometimes, Mike would catch sight of him in the middle of a crowded street. He would see him walking away from him, disappearing among all those people, and Mike would start walking faster, his mouth open to catch his breath and try to call out his name, even if it seemed like his voice had disappeared all of a sudden. Sometimes, the man would disappear and Mike would be left trying to talk himself out of believing that what he had seen could possibly be true. Sometimes, he would get close enough to see that it wasn’t Harvey, after all.

In each case, he was left with a bitter taste in his mouth and his eyes burning as he craved some pot. Or alcohol. Anything to get away from it for a second.

 

 

-

 

“What’s this?” Rachel asked. She looked extremely pissed, and Mike had no difficulties understanding why when he saw the bag of pot she was holding.

“Nothing.” He replied, taking it from her hands. “Nothing to worry about.”

“ _Nothing to worry about?”_ Rachel yelled. “I had decided to let you be because you didn’t seem to want help and I figured that you’d mourn your own way… But _this_? Is this your way of coping?”

“What if it is?” Mike snapped, annoyed. She didn’t understand, she would _never_ understand. He had lost so much and now that everything had been better, now that he had been given a chance and a family and he was mostly happy… It had all been destroyed, again, because it seemed to run in his family and at this point the problem wasn’t blood, because there was no Ross blood in Harvey, just Mike as a connection. At this point, the problem must have been _him_.

And Mike was so sick of it, he just wanted to be the next, and soon, so everything would be over and no one would die simply for being loved by him.

“It’s a shitty way of coping!” Rachel replied. “Do you think he would-?”

“I don’t give a shit!” Mike interrupted her. Now he was yelling too. He didn’t want to hear anything about what Harvey would have wanted, or how he would have reacted to his choices. Mike didn’t _care_ , because Harvey wasn’t there, so he couldn’t exactly order him around, could he? “He isn’t here, so he has no saying in this! Alright?”

“No, Mike, it isn’t alright.” Rachel said. She sounded a little calmer, a little gentler. “I know you are hurting, but-”

“You _don’t_ know.” Mike remembered that Harvey had scolded him more than once for always interrupting. Well, if he really didn’t want him to do it, he should have stuck around to stop him. “ _Nobody_ knows. I owe him _everything_. I was a nobody, I was throwing my life away and I just- He gave me my dream and a _family_. He didn’t have to do it, and he didn’t have to get out of his way to protect me, but he did, and now I just-”

Now he was just so lost and angry and in pain and everything was so wrong.

Mike inhaled, trying to prevent himself from letting the tears fall. “I need to forget it, Rachel.” He explained. “I need it to hurt less for a while, alright?” _Please, let it go_.

Rachel was now coming closer, her hands stroking his face. “I know, Mike.” No, she didn’t know shit. “But this isn’t the way. This is bad for you.”

“This is the only way I know.” Mike whispered. And, after all, the reason why he had stopped smoking was Harvey, it seemed only fair to go back to old habits now that he wasn’t around to stop him, didn’t it?

 

 

-

 

Jessica had sent him to a psychologist. Rachel had told her about had happened, and next thing he knew Donna was checking up on him every morning, to see if he was stoned at work – he could hardly be, since Jessica had thrown away all his pot – and there had been an appointment set for him to talk and open up and heal.

Mike had protested, loudly, possibly sounding like a spoiled kid, but Jessica had been adamant and she had even given him a ride to the doctor, to make sure that he wouldn’t skip.

Dr. Ryan was a nice woman. She was probably even good at her job, because she seemed trusting and friendly and Mike had enjoyed chatting with her. At least until the reason why they were there had come up and he had just closed in himself.

He didn’t want to talk about it. Talking about it made it real, and what was the point, anyway? He couldn’t have opened up with the psychologist even if he had wanted to, because explaining what Harvey meant to him would have meant revealing their secret and already too many people knew and Mike couldn’t trust a stranger with that, even if she was bound by professional secrecy.

Mike talked to Jessica about his issue with the psychologist. She understood and she agreed to not have him going anymore, at one condition: he had to talk to someone. Be it Rachel, Donna, _Louis_ , or even _her_ , whoever he wanted, but he had to talk to someone and tell her who it was so that she could verify. Mike hated her for it.

 

 

-

 

He couldn’t stop thinking that all this could have been avoidable.

Had he just headed towards Harvey’s apartment instead of calling, all this could have been avoided. He had stayed at home because he didn’t want to make Rachel feel abandoned since he had been at Harvey’s two days before, but he should have gone, he should have _sensed_ that something was going to be destroyed.

It happened in movies or novels, didn’t it? People had this gut feeling and they just knew that something was wrong. Hell, Mike had been _asleep_ while Harvey was being _stabbed_.

If that woman had called 911 and locked herself in the bathroom or something, all this could have been avoided. If that bastard hadn’t been a violent scumbag, Harvey would have been alive. If Harvey had just gone back to sleep and minded his own business, everything would have been normal.

But it _wasn’t_ , and Mike would have given anything to go back and change it.

He even found himself _praying_ , like he had never done before, for a miracle. He prayed whatever God was out there to just give Harvey back, to take him instead, or to send him back to that day and let him save Harvey.

He promised that he would quit, that he would go to report himself to the bar, that he would go to prison and pray every day, anything to not have to suffer through that another day.

It wasn’t _fair_. Harvey was a good man. He acted like an asshole, sometimes, and he pissed Mike off pretty often, but he was a fucking good man and he didn’t deserve to die that way. Mike was far more of a screw up, _why_ was he still breathing?

He would have given away his own heart, he would have carved it out of his chest, if this could have brought Harvey back.

 

 

-

 

Jessica showed up on his doorstep.

It had been three days since her ultimatum about talking with someone, and Mike had pointedly ignored it, somehow hoping that she would just forget.

Rachel was with Donna, and Mike should have figured that it was suspicious of her to just leave him alone like that, without even asking if he wanted company. Not that he had minded - he didn’t want to be around people that night, not really -, but he should have figured.

“What are you doing here?” Mike asked.

She showed him a bottle of Scotch. Mike’s stomach twitched unpleasantly. He wondered if she had chosen to bring _Scotch_ on purpose. “I’m here to drink and to be your personal shrink. And no, you have no saying in the matter.”

Mike sighed, knowing that arguing would have been pointless, and he stepped aside, letting her come in.

 

“You aren’t getting any more if you don’t start talking.” Jessica warned, preventing him from pouring a second glass of Scotch.

“I’m sure that an actual shrink would never say that.” Mike muttered. He was positive that threatening a patient wasn’t a good way of getting them to open up.

“As you may have noticed, I have a law degree and I am not actually a shrink.” Jessica replied. “But you have a point when you say that you can’t speak freely in front of a stranger and you didn’t come to me saying that you’d talk to Rachel or Donna. So, speak up.”

“I don’t know what I’m supposed to say.” Mike whispered.

Jessica shrugged, pouring herself another glass of Scotch. “I see him.” She confessed. “Sometimes, when I am in my office, I catch him out of the corner of my eye, walking around like his usual, arrogant self.”

Mike swallowed, nodding. “It happens to me too. Sometimes I even hear his voice.”

She filled his glass for him, waiting for Mike to go on. He drank all the Scotch he had in his glass, waiting impatiently for the alcohol to start cutting his ties, so that talking wouldn’t have felt as difficult as it did now.

“I didn’t have a chance to say goodbye.” He muttered, after a couple of minutes.

“Death rarely gives you that privilege.” Jessica commented.

“Yeah.” Mike scoffed. “Happened with my parents and Grammy too.”

A bottle of Scotch and much small talk later, Mike was sprawled on the couch, Jessica sitting not too composedly on an armchair.

“I don’t know how to be myself without him.” He finally whispered. They hadn’t touched the Harvey-subject for the rest of the evening. Even under the effect of the alcohol, Mike figured that she was trying to take it slow. “I just want him back.”

“Me too.” Jessica replied. It wasn’t some life-saving advice, but Mike knew that she meant it and somehow that seemed enough.

 

 

-

 

“Mike.”

“Go away, Kyle.” Mike growled.

He could already _feel_ the pity and compassion that he was going to throw at him. They had never been friends, they had never even got along, Mike couldn’t stand that now he wanted to be friendly just because he was miserable and Kyle felt like being a good Samaritan for a change.

“It just takes a second.” Kyle insisted.

Mike decided that it would have been better to be blunt and, after all, he didn’t really mind throwing some of his anger and frustration at him. It wasn’t like Kyle didn’t deserve it, anyway.

“I don’t want your pity.” Mike hissed. “You can’t stand me, I can’t stand you, it’s always been like that and I swear that if you came here to tell me that you are sorry or to offer your condolences, I will punch you in the face.”

Kyle blinked, unimpressed. Either he didn’t take him seriously or he had mastered the art of keeping a straight face in any situation.

“Good, because I don’t want to do either of those annoying things.” He replied.

“Then what do you want?”

“I know that you and Harvey were friends.” Mike felt his blood boiling already. If Kyle had any intention of _mocking_ him or saying _anything_ about Harvey… “My best friend died when I was twenty. So, I get it. Here, - He handed Mike a card. – this is a support group for people who lost close friends. You don’t have to talk, you can just go there and listen. It helped me a lot.”

Mike accepted the card without even realizing it, too busy staring at Kyle like he had never seen him before. The first thing he managed to say was the stupidest he could have come up with: “I- Sorry for your friend.”

Kyle lifted his eyebrows. “Now _I_ should punch you in the face, Ross.” He commented.

Mike chuckled. “Yeah. Right. Mmh- Thanks. For this.” He added, showing the card. He wasn’t sure that he would go – even if he was tempted, since he didn’t have to speak-, but it was a nice gesture and it didn’t even feel like pity, coming from someone who had gone through the same thing.

Kyle nodded and turned his back to walk away from him.

 

 

-

 

Mike had once told Harvey to throw as much as he could at him, to break him to pieces so that he could finally start to forgive him. Mike had known then that he would have been able to take it, because the reward in the end would have been getting Harvey’s friendship back.

It was funny that coping with Harvey’s death worked in a similar way: he needed to break down completely, he needed to be completely destroyed so that maybe he could start functioning again.

He had tried ignoring it as much as he could, except for some talks involving Jessica and a lot of Scotch, but even then everything seemed like a dream the morning after and Mike could go back to work and to sneaking in Harvey’s office and to pretend that he didn’t still feel the urge to go to his boss to discuss a case or to call him when he felt lonely.

He had been existing into a sort of limbo, where everything seemed blurred and flavourless and useless. He went to work because he had to. He smiled because he wanted to avoid questions. He kissed Rachel because she initiated it and she was his girlfriend. When she wanted to have sex, though, he was always tired, or late, or busy. He just didn’t feel up to it.

He tried cheering himself up with some movies, but he found himself staring at the screen, numb, lost in his own head. He was easily distracted and if he did pay attention he wasn’t into it, he just felt bored.

Nothing was appealing and some days he would have just wanted to stay in bed, forget about everyone and never get out.

One morning he had found the coffee machine broken and he had started crying uncontrollably. He just couldn’t stop the tears, even if he knew it was stupid and really, it was just coffee, it wasn’t a big deal. Kyle had found him, which probably wasn’t the worst thing that could have happened, since he had given him a tissue and then he had gone looking for Rachel.

He was with her and Donna when whatever force was still holding him up disappeared.

Rachel had invited Donna over because she didn’t want her to be alone at home. She said she had seemed pretty shaken up at work. Mike hadn’t noticed, but he didn’t want to complain, even if he didn’t feel like having people around – when did he, lately? – and he would have been way happier if Rachel had decided to go at Donna’s.

It was stupid, really, what triggered him. They were watching some stupid talent show, just to laugh at those people who went there even if they were as much talented for dancing or singing as Mike was, when his phone had rung.

It was a client, an old lady owing a company, who apologized for the unusual hour and for calling him. She had lost Harvey’s number and she needed some help. She wanted Mike to give the number to him. Mike didn’t know what to do. He didn’t know what to say.

He just stared at the wall in front of him, his mouth twitching, his throat struggling to let out the words.

For a second he thought about hanging up. But that went against whatever amount of common sense he had left in him, and he could hear Harvey’s voice yelling ‘ _Never hang up on a client’_ , and- “He is dead, you can’t reach him, ma’am, sorry.” He said. He felt like he was on autopilot. “I can give you Mrs. Pearson’s number though, if you wish.”

“ _Oh, I am so sorry to hear that, he was such a charming young man_.” She said. “ _Sure, her number will do_.”

Mike heard himself reciting it to her as if his mind was working and he wasn’t just staring at the nothingness, his heart racing, hyper-aware of the blood pouring in his veins.

“Mike? Are you okay?” Rachel asked. Mike didn’t know how much time had passed since when he had hung up. She was touching his arm, trying to get his attention. Mike slowly turned towards her.

“He is dead, Rachel.” He whispered, and it was absurd how hard this was hitting him, now that weeks had passed and he should have been at least partially used to it by now. “She wanted to reach him, but he really is dead.”

“Oh, Mike…” She whispered, throwing her arms around him, pulling him down to bury him in her body.

Mike didn’t hug back or react in any way. He just stared at what was in front of him, barely realizing that Donna’s eyes were full of tears and the TV was still on.

Harvey wasn’t coming back.

He could pray as long as he wanted, as hard as he could, but this wasn’t going to change. Harvey was dead, he had been ripped away from him and Mike was never getting him back. But it was so impossible, because he had been there since the moment they met, he had been a secure place to fall back into when he needed it, he had been an assurance, he had been warmth and protection and- And he was gone.

A client had called, and Mike hadn’t been able to smile and recite Harvey’s number for her, because Harvey was gone and she couldn’t possibly talk to him. Mike was still there, but Harvey was gone. Mike was working alone now, taking the paperwork of anyone who needed it.

He had also helped with a couple of cases for Louis. When he had had a brilliant idea, working late at the office, he had turned towards Harvey’s chair, a big smile on his face, his mouth opened to brag about how smart he was, ready to be welcomed by Harvey’s proud and exasperated smile. But there was no one there and Mike had felt the world crash under his feet.

Now, everything was falling _on_ him, the debris were suffocating him as he tried to _feel_ Harvey, somehow, to remember his face and his mannerism and his voice, as if remembering him clearly enough could have brought him back – it wouldn’t, because Harvey was gone forever.

Tears were falling down his cheeks as he grasped for air, struggling against Rachel’s hold, because he didn’t want to be held back, he wanted to jump out of his own skin, to scream his lungs out and to cry until there was nothing left in him.

“Mike…” Rachel whispered. He didn’t know if she wanted him to stop or if she was trying to remind him of her presence to comfort him, but he pulled away, his legs trembling, his nose running and his heart pounding.

He tried to say something, to apologize for the scene, to say that he’d calm himself down, but he was sobbing and shaking and he felt like everything he had managed to at least partially hold back since when he had been smacked in the face with the fact that Harvey was dead was coming back at him all at once, knocking him over, tearing him to pieces.

Mike had already bought him a gift for Christmas. Harvey was terrible to buy presents to, because he had everything he wanted and, really, it wasn’t possible to buy him something that he desired before he took it himself. But one day Mike had seen that book in the library, the novel that had allowed him to recognize the cops that day, the one responsible for him and Harvey meeting. And it was a stupid and sentimental gift, but Mike had been pretty sure that he wouldn’t have found anything better and, honestly, it was better than a mug.

Mike stood up, almost tripping over at the first step because his legs felt awfully numb. Ignoring Rachel calling his name and proceeding in spite of the tears clouding his eyes, he reached the record collection Harvey had bought him for his birthday, opening the drawer next to it. He found the book, and he didn’t know what to do with it.

He gripped it so tight that his knuckles turned white, and then he realized that it was all its fault, that hadn’t it been for that stupid novel he wouldn’t have come across Harvey’s interviews and that stupid firm and his family. He wouldn’t have any family left by know, he probably would have been in prison actually, but he wouldn’t be fighting the urge to rip his own face off to compensate the emotional pain.

He threw the novel as hard as he could, letting out a frustrated scream. It hit the door, and Rachel let out a scream of surprise. Mike ignored her, turning towards the record collection and _hating_ it, hating Harvey’s generosity – because who knew how much that stuff had cost -, hating his smirk as Mike had opened his gift, hating his shoulders straightening up to regain composure, hating the feel of his warmth when he sat beside Mike on the couch, watching a movie and laughing and commenting all the time.

He hated everything and everyone as he took the records and scattered them on the floor, screaming or sobbing or both, proceeding even when the tears were too many to see anything.

Then Rachel had taken his hands, preventing him from doing anything else, and Mike was growing more tired each second, number and weaker in her arms. She started rocking him, whispering a litany of ‘it’s going to be okay’s and ‘I got you’s. Mike hid his face in her shoulder, trying to catch his breath as his throat hurt.

They were soon joined on the floor by Donna. When Mike felt her hand on his shoulder, he raised his gaze on her, seeing how much she was crying too and feeling a little less alone in this. He whispered a thank you for Rachel, trying to get a hold of himself, then he straightened up, moving his shoulders just like he remembered Harvey doing – and Donna must have noticed, because her eyes widened for a second and Mike could have sworn that there were even more tears.

Mike pulled her towards his chest. He was still shaken up and his stomach hurt as if he had laughed too much and too hard, there was nothing left in him to offer, it was like he had cried it all out, but she needed reassurance and Mike knew that, as much as Rachel wanted to help, she didn’t get it. She wasn’t close to Harvey.

His records were all over the floor and Mike felt tears filling his eyes again. He blinked and let them fall.

 

 

 

*     *     *

 

 

_“Do you think I’ll ever make junior partner?” Mike asked._

_He had been thinking about it uninterruptedly for a couple of days now, and it really was bugging him. It wasn’t that he wasn’t grateful for the opportunity that had been given to him: he didn’t have a law degree, he wasn’t supposed to be there, and yet he had had a chance to live his dream, being grateful was kind of unavoidable._

_Still, as he spent time with Harvey and learnt more and more from him, he found himself being infected by his ambition. Or, more accurately, Harvey was bringing Mike’s own ambition to light. He had just been repressing it so hard in the last period of his life because he knew that there wouldn’t be any opportunity for him to be who he wanted to be._

_But now that he was working at a prestigious law firm, he couldn’t help wondering if he could do more than just senior associate._

_“Maybe if you learnt to arrive on time.” Harvey replied, without lifting his eyes from the papers he was reading. Of course he wouldn’t take him seriously._

_“I’m serious, Harvey.” Mike insisted._

_This time, Harvey raised his head, frowning. “Where is this coming from?” He asked._

_Mike shrugged. “I’ve just been thinking.”_

_“You don’t even know how to properly fake a law degree yet and you are already thinking about making partner?” Harvey chuckled._

_Mike felt his cheeks burning as humiliation made him drift his eyes away from Harvey’s face. “Yeah, you’re right. It was stupid.” He mumbled. Frankly, he hadn’t expected Harvey to react that way. Or rather, he knew he should have seen it coming and it definitely had crossed his mind, but he had this nasty habit of not giving up on the hope that Harvey wouldn’t be an ass, for a change. He was pretty delusional._

_“Mike.” Harvey called him, his tone serious again._

_“Yeah, yeah, I’m working.” Mike said, assuming that the call was meant to be a warning for him to get back to his papers._

_“Mike.”_

_This time, Mike looked at him. “What?” He asked. He realized he sounded annoyed, even if he was more hurt than anything else._

_“When you’ll make partner, mine is gonna be the first vote on the record.” Harvey simply said. He was wearing a straight face and he had just dropped the bomb as if it was no big deal, but Mike saw it for the apology it was. A big grin appeared on his face._

_“Really?”_

_“I don’t speak without a reason, kid.”  Harvey snorted, his eyes back on the papers as he did his best to act annoyed. Mike’s bubble wasn’t going to be busted any time soon though._

_“So you think I can make it?”  He insisted. He knew he was pushing it, but it wasn’t every day that he received compliments from Harvey Specter._

_“I think you will make it.” Harvey replied. It was so fast that Mike realized he didn’t even have to think about it. His grin widened. “After all, you have the privilege of being able to follow my example, don’t you?”_

_Mike chuckled. And here it went. It had been good while it had lasted._

_“Yeah. Of course. You are a good coach, by the way.” And he really was. Most of the time, Harvey said that he wasn’t into the mentoring thing and that he wouldn’t give him advice, but in end he did explain how things worked and he did correct Mike’s mistakes. Mike had learnt a lot since when he had arrived there._

_“I’m the_ best _.” Harvey replied._

_Mike just shook his head, a grin still spread on his face. He was going to make junior partner, sooner or later, and Harvey would be awfully proud of him._

 

 

-

 

Things were good, most of the time.

It had been a while since when Mike had been unable to resist the urge to drown himself in alcohol or pot; he was now sleeping and eating regularly, he didn’t feel the urge to burst crying at every little thing going wrong and he could even smile and talk to people without feeling like he was performing surgery on his own heart.

He still spent time in Harvey’s office: sometimes to work, because that place still managed to relax him, it still felt safe, like home; sometimes to get advice- Yeah, it wasn’t too brilliant to ask for advice to a dead attorney, but Mike found that talking with Harvey, even if he didn’t get an actual answer, helped him think, somehow.

It was kind of ridiculous that, after a year, he would still turn as he heard his voice calling ‘Mike’ or as he saw his face among a crowd. Sometimes, Mike wondered if Harvey’s ghost lingered in there, still tormenting him because there was no way that Harvey would let something as petty as death get in the way of his personal amusement.

To be honest, if Mike could have chosen he would have picked Harvey’s ghost, because some kind of _Casper_ was surely better than Harvey disappearing completely, as if he had never existed.

So much had changed in a year: Mike and Rachel had broken up. It hadn’t been much of a tragedy, they had simply grown apart as Mike tried to find himself again through grief and Rachel got caught up in her work life, the one she had always wanted. The wedding had been postponed over and over again and one day they had woken up to realize that Mike was so much different from when they had got together, and Rachel’s priorities had changed.

They were still good friends, which Mike was really happy of.

He and Jessica, on the contrary, had got closer. Mike wouldn’t actually define it a friendship, but he appreciated her much more than he did before, he kind of understood Harvey’s loyalty to her now, and she seemed to look at him much more fondly than before.

Which was why Mike wasn’t surprised to find her waiting for him in his office, leaning on his desk.

“Good morning.” She greeted him.

“Morning.” Mike replied. “Do you need anything?”

She shook her head, standing up and getting in front of him. “I have news.” She announced. Judging by her smile, it was good news.

Mike tried to think about important cases going on that would potentially result in Jessica standing in his office with that happy expression, but he couldn’t think of anything.

“What?” He asked, curious.

“Congratulations.” She said, her smile widening. “You just made junior partner.”

Mike didn’t know what he was supposed to be feeling right now, but this probably wasn’t it: he felt heat rushing to his face in a second, as a smile appeared on his lips and he thought ‘ _I made it’_ , but then it was only a matter of seconds before he was brought back to what felt like a lifetime before, to him and Harvey working late at the office, sitting on the couch with papers all around them, to Harvey promising that his would be the first vote on the record at his partnership.

And just like a snap of fingers, all those months of baby steps and therapy group and talking and healing disappeared, and he was brought back to the first days, weeks, to when he was a total wreck crying all over the place and praying God to bring everything back to normal.

Mike’s hands started shaking and his cheeks were burning as tears filled his eyes. He was supposed to smile and thank Jessica and celebrate, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. _Harvey was supposed to be there_. Harvey was supposed to be the one to deliver the news,  a little, proud grin on his face and some comment about not gloating ready on his lips.

Imagining his smile, remembering what it felt like to see it, Mike felt sick.

He quickly excused himself and ran to the nearest bathroom. He knew he probably wouldn’t have thrown up, he had felt like this so many times before, but making sure that he wouldn’t make a mess if it had happened made him feel a little less anxious.

He leaned on the sink, grabbing it as a life saviour, waiting for the nausea to stop and sending back the tears that were threatening to fall.

Jessica was standing not too far behind him, looking concerned.

As soon as Mike was positive that opening his mouth wouldn’t result in throwing up all over the place, he commented: “This is the men’s bathroom.”

His voice was weak and his smile faint, but Jessica seemed comforted, at least a little. Hell, he was pale and sweating, he probably looked as if he had just seen a ghost – which wasn’t even _that_ wrong.

“And who do you think would have the balls to call me out on it?” She challenged.

Mike chuckled, nodding in agreement.

“I’m sorry.” He muttered, turning to face her, even if he was still leaning on the sink. “It’s really good news. Sorry for my reaction.”

“It’s fine.” Jessica replied. “I know it wasn’t supposed to be me.”

Mike didn’t reply. They both knew that it was true, there was no point in denying it, especially since he knew that Jessica wouldn’t take it as a personal offense.

“I’ve dreamt a lot of this.” Mike said, smiling faintly.

 _When you’ll make partner, mine is gonna be the first vote on the record_.

“Don’t be ridiculous!” Jessica replied. “Junior partner is just the tip of the ice-berg. Hasn’t Harvey taught you anything? You have to aim much higher.”

Mike couldn’t help chuckling. Harvey probably would have come up with something similar, had he been there.

“Yeah, yeah, he mentioned it a couple of times.” He said. His eyes were burning again as he tried to swallow the lump in his throat. “I think I’m gonna get back to work.”

Jessica stared at him for a couple of seconds before nodding. She headed towards the door, stopping right before exiting and turning to add: “You should celebrate this. I know it’s hard, but you should celebrate this.”

Mike nodded. “Yeah, I’ll think about it.”

He knew that he wouldn’t do anything though. He was supposed to and it probably would have been healthier than commiserate himself for the whole evening, but he didn’t feel like going out for a drink with the wrong people. Had Harvey been there, he would have been the one to take him to celebrate. They would have drunk insanely expensive Scotch, maybe they would have even crashed at Harvey’s place and woken up scattered on the couch.

He washed his face one more time, deciding that he would just work for the whole evening. In Harvey’s office.

He kept the key in his pocket: it had become a familiar presence, he often played with it when he was nervous and it was the one thing he was positive he would never lose. After collecting the files he needed, he headed towards Harvey’s office and opened the door, closing it behind him as he took a deep breath. 

He settled on the couch, glancing at the empty desk: he didn’t like sitting on Harvey’s chair.

“Well, you were right.” Mike commented, smiling slightly, his eyes now fixed on the papers in his hands. “I made it. Bet you’re proud.”

Or at least he hoped he was. Would be. Whatever, he had never been much of a believer, but thinking that his loved ones had just disappeared into thin air had always been difficult. As much as he knew that they were all machines, that one day they just stopped working and there was nothing more, it was so difficult and devastating to think that everything that Harvey had been, that his thoughts and feelings, just were no more. It was much easier and comforting to speak to him, to act as if Harvey was watching him.

“Maybe you can come and visit here, just for my partnership.” Mike mumbled. It was so stupid, but for a second he imaged Harvey with a halo on his head taking a twenty-four hour leave from Heaven to put his vote on the record. Because he had promised he would, and Harvey Specter always kept his promises, didn’t he?

Mike shook his head, taking a deep breath as he tried to concentrate on his work. He was supposed to be past the bargaining stage of grief, he had to stop being an idiot and hurting himself with impossible fantasies.

 

 

-

 

“Hey.”

Mike glanced at the door, where Rachel was standing with a slight smile on her face.

“Hey.” He smiled back.

“Donna told me. Congratulations.”

Mike nodded, briefly thanking her and scolding himself a second later for not showing enough enthusiasm. But Rachel didn’t seem to mind: after all, she had seen first-hand what state he had been in after Harvey died and the way in which that had changed him had had important consequences on their relationship. She nodded, taking a couple of steps towards him and sitting on the couch.

“What are you working on?” She asked, casually.

“Pro bono.” Mike replied. He was glad that she hadn’t brought up the subject. “What are you doing here this late?”

“I have court tomorrow. It’s important and I don’t want to screw it up.” She admitted. Mike nodded. She had always been too fixed on perfection.

“You’re going to be great, I’m sure.” He smiled, and it felt much more natural than when she had congratulated him for his partnership.

“Thank you.”

They sat in silence for a couple of seconds, until Mike decided to speak: “I should be happier for this. It’s a dream.”

“Yeah, it is.” She shrugged. “But I understand that you miss Harvey. It’s okay. I’m sure he would be so proud of you, probably even more than I am.”

Mike smiled. “Yeah. Sometimes I still forget about it, you know? I dream of him and when I wake up I forget that he’s… dead.”

Rachel nodded and her hand moved on his back, starting to stroke him to make him feel her presence. It was comforting.

“It’s just that he’s supposed to be here, I got this far thanks to him and he isn’t even here to see it. I- Part of me doesn’t want this promotion because- I don’t know, everything is so _wrong_.”

“It’s okay, Mike.” Rachel reassured him. “It’s normal to feel like this, you better than me know that grief doesn’t just go away. But you’re strong, you’ll get through this and one day you’ll be grateful that you didn’t just blow everything and book a ticket for Buenos Aires.”

A laugh escaped Mike’s throat. He remembered being extremely panicked and anxious and scared and Harvey standing in front of him with the most serious expression ever on his face, saying: “ _I can get us two tickets to Buenos Aires and have the chopper on the helipad in ten minutes_.” It had really got on his nerves how calm Harvey had been when Jessica had found out their secret, but at the same it had been good to know that one of them had everything under control. He missed that asshole so much.

Rachel was still stroking his back and it was good to feel less lonely. “Thank you.” He said, and this time he meant it.

“Anytime.” She smiled.

 

 

-

 

“Is there no way I can avoid all this?” Mike asked. He realized that he was basically whining, but as the minutes separating him from his partnership vote lessened and the partners started gathering in the conference room, Mike felt more and more trapped, tormented by the feeling that it just wasn’t right.

“It’s a tradition.” Donna replied, shrugging.

“But I already got the promotion.” Mike complained. “It’s just a formality.”

“When will you learn that formalities are way too important in this world?”

Yeah, Harvey mentioned that just a million of times. The thing was, Mike _knew_ that it was important and that he had to do it, but he also remembered how important that vote had seemed for Harvey, and the idea of letting the other partners vote without him was excruciating.

“I know, I know.” Mike mumbled.

Donna was smiling at him with sympathy. “I miss him too.” She said, moving closer to fix his jacket. “But he wouldn’t want to ruin your big day. Hell, he’d kick your ass for not showing the best of you during your partnership vote. Keep your business here-”

“-and your personal life at home, yeah, I remember.” Mike interrupted her, nodding. “I have never been good at that.”

“Well, you’d better learn fast, because it’s starting.” Donna commented, gently pushing him towards the conference room and giving him an encouraging smile while gesturing to go in.

Everything in Mike’s body screamed to run away as fast as possible and his knees felt dumb. His mind ran to his lifeboat, picturing Harvey’s professional smirk and the way he carried himself as if he was completely at ease. Mike automatically straightened his shoulders, mimicking Harvey’s mannerism as he opened the bottom of his jacket with one hand before sitting.

He smiled politely at Jessica and Louis, forcing himself to ignore who wasn’t sitting right there with them as a name partner.

He heard the brief speech Jessica gave without actually listening to it, hyperaware of his own body, worried that every tiny gesture could have given away how he was feeling. He was the centre of attention and he knew it, he couldn’t afford to let everyone know that he wanted to run away from there as soon as possible.

 _This isn’t elementary school_ , – Mike remembered way too clearly Harvey standing in front of him, looking down on him as he gave him the chance to completely change his life – _this is hard work: long hours, high pressure. I need a grown goddamned man_.

He straightened his back, twisting his lips in a polite smile as Jessica’s eyes met his and her hand raised, followed by the other partners’ hands.

Donna was standing out of the conference room, thumbs up, Rachel cheering at him next to her.

It was way too easy for Mike to imagine Harvey standing behind Jessica, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, a confident smirk on his lips as he nodded in approval. Later he probably would have smacked himself in the head for being a crazy idiot, but Mike found himself slightly nodding back, swallowing his tears as he stared at a projection of his mind.

 _You give me this, and I will work as hard as it takes to screw those Harvard-douches and become the best lawyer that you’ve ever seen_.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to anyone who arrived here. There's just a couple of things I'd like to specify: in the beginning, the nurse told Mike that Harvey was alive and didn't adress the seriousness of the accident because, as far as I know, it's policy to not tell relatives the bad news on the phone; when Mike was drunk, I didn't try too hard to imitate the 'drunk speech' because I thought it would be less annoying if everything was more understable; Mike's gift to Harvey, meaning the novel he had read in elementary school, wasn't my idea: I've read it in [this lovely fic.](https://www.fanfiction.net/s/8039065/1/Macaroni-and-Glue)  
>  Thank you for reading. If you want, you can find me [here on Tumblr](http://heytheredeann.tumblr.com).


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